


Walk on By

by StagFiction



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, homeless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:13:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27982104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StagFiction/pseuds/StagFiction
Summary: This is the beginning of a fic from a few years ago that I never got around to writing but my love for writing has come back and as a result, I may use it in the future. I would be interested if anybody is still interested. I know I haven't posted a fic in years but I have been busy and this year of all years has found many of us confined to our laptops.UPDATE- I have started to write this fic everyone! I think it's going to be the largest one I have written yet and it will be from WIll's perspective as I have not written like this before. I am rather excited. I think I want to write a good chunk of it before I upload but i'm hoping it will be worth it. It will be set after the fall as I have a soft spot for writing alternative endings.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 7





	Walk on By

Will rounded the corner and found himself staring at a man across the street from him, sitting on the pavement. As if he had misplaced him in his memory, he struggled to place him. A faded friend perhaps. Will pressed a cigarette to his lips and lit it. The stranger looked up and he looked away, putting his lighter in his pocket. The face was familiar and Will’s forehead crumpled at the pain of remembering. 

Long matted blonde hair and a piercing stare. But this man sat wearing rags of grey and brown, not rich silk and gold. This man was not that man, that man that Will once knew. 

Will adjusted his collar, billowing smoke from his lips, and checked the time, he really ought to be going. But that man, he had noticed Will, which sent panic through him like that of a cut from a sharp knife. The man had gotten up and started to walk his way, holding an empty takeaway cup which clinked as he walked.

Will turned on his heel through the busy Virginia streets, dodging passers-by but that man was there, like his shadow, his expression never changing. Will walked through shortcuts, through alleyways until he found the train station. 

“Spare any change, sir?”

Will turned opened his mouth in protest but no words delivered themselves. He lifted his hand and reached to touch the man's face. The man leaned into it as if it was the first touch he had received in at least a decade.


End file.
